19.11.09

Because my blog and I were busy jetsetting for the months of September and October, it's time to recap the pilgrimage of a dear old friend who made the valiant journey to Mallorca to visit old Granny Annie.

Teenie (pictured right) spent her week long October break in Palma sipping sangria, soaking up sun, and of course shooting her up and coming production- a music video.

A senior at Villanova University, Christine studies English and Business and aspires to rock the music world with her debut video this coming spring. Still filming between Europe and the U.S. the video has not released its cast list or specified its musical genre, but is guaranteed to be loaded with action, classy girls, and comedic snippets of college life both in the states and abroad.

Cheers to graduating in the spring (or for me, in two springs), not finding a secure job, and filming videos to post to youtube forever!! **This indicates that I will be collaborating behind the scenes with Teenie Weenie Productions By The Sea as the general manager and creative director.

16.11.09

Yes, the Browns swarmed Mallorca last week. It was in all the headlines that they flew in, rented one of the largest cars on the Spanish market and circled the city five times in order to find their hotel in the ancient small streets of Palma. We wined and dined for a straight week all over the island. Much to Cathy's (my mother by birth) pleasure, she did all the driving, which included James Bond mountain s-turns. Between sight-seeing, spa treatments, hiking and relaxing, we made a date to go out on the town for lunch with my madre, Antonia (my fairy godmother by Spanish adoption).Popsicle, Cathy, Matt, and Antonia in her salon. Note the heavily covered walls.

She took us to a typical Mallorquin restaurant 20 kilometers outside of the city to eat a sampling (feast) of traditional foods (meats). Antonia directed us in the copilot seat as Cathy slithered through tinker-toy sized cars like a local. To start, Antonia ordered some classics- Frito Mallorquin (veggies, potatoes and meat fried in olive oil) and Sopas Mallorquinas (a peasant soup with veggies and stale bread, like stuffing). Cathy had already warned everyone in the restaurant that my dad is allergic to shellfish when our order came. Antonia assured him that he would be fine, seeing as she too has that allergy. Before serving ourselves my befuddled parents and brother took in the foreign sights and smells of the dishes. Dad immediately noticed small shrimp in the Frito Mallorquin as Antonia piled it onto her plate. WAIT WAIT he said with a stern face. Before his next breath, Cathy's arm was outstretched blocking him from his plate and the table. We all look to Antonia's plate, where she is sorting the shrimp from the rest of the vegetables with her fork. I told her my dad would die if he ate this and she looked at me innocently and said, "Well I just pick them out," and went on her merry way eating her shellfish-touched food. Maybe she invented her so-called shellfish allergy, but the Browns were a little startled by this odd behavior, which characterizes most of the European non-sensical zany behavior that us Americans disdain/fear.